The Last Man On the Moon
by DoctorNicotine
Summary: The SR-71 song "Last Man on the Moon" just really reminded me of Subject 16 and I wanted to take it apart and write a few ficlets about some of the lyrics. *Edited the last part so that it's more canon.


_I just can't seem to concentrate today  
It seems my mind is wandering away  
And all the things swimming through my head  
Fade away as I go back to bed._

Watching security footage of the test subject dubbed '16' seemed to be Lucy's only job in Abstergo. Dr Vidic had apparently grown tired of Lucy slowing their Animus sessions by being far too concerned for the man using the machine, and had kicked her out for a few days. Not knowing what else to do, she stayed at her desk and watched tapes from the cameras set up in Subject 16's bedroom and in the Animus room. The Animus footage was rather boring in her mind, she wasn't gaining any new information unless she was there monitoring the computers. But when 16 was alone… That was far from boring. If Lucy had to use a word to describe what she saw it would be 'disturbing' above all things.

The patterns of his actions varied, but for the most part they were all the same: scratching at the walls, muttering and screaming to himself. The worst happened after a long day in the Animus. Vidic was obviously keeping him in far too long with no breaks. Even in the black and white of the cameras, Lucy could still see how gaunt and frail he looked afterwards.

The worst was later at night, when all the lights were out and most people had gone home or to their rooms in Abstergo. 16 would begin to hallucinate from sheer mental exhaustion. It began almost simply, his eyes would track things that weren't there, sometimes speaking to them. Then he would become submersed in the visions, jumping up into a fighting stance, his legs spread and his teeth bared a sword or rifle raised in his arms as he battled invisible foes. Lucy would watch as he killed and maimed, and sometimes was wounded himself, or his ancestor was. He would cry in pain and clutch at the supposed injury. Occasionally this was enough to snap 16 out of his hallucinations and he would stare at the walls for a few minutes getting his bearings, then he would start to sob.

Lucy couldn't observe this most nights, for fear of the nightmares that came from the guilt of seeing him in this state.

Eventually Subject 16 would pass out wherever he was fighting imaginary Templars, his body finally shutting down and Lucy could only hope that it would give him a few hours of undisturbed rest.

_  
And I close my eyes  
And see how fast time flies  
'Cause sunrise comes too soon._

"Get up! You're done for today." Warren Vidic's harsh voice broke into the fog of desynchronization that clouded his vision. Bright light blinded him and he shut his eyes quickly as the screen that covered his head disappeared. Clay sat up and pressed the heel of his hands into his eyes.

Vidic was growling at him again, "You just can't do anything right can you? Novice."

Clay shuddered as Malik's voice took over Vidic's. This was becoming unnatural.

"Sleep…" he muttered. Maybe good night's sleep would fix his head.

Lucy's hand grabbed Clay's arm to steady him, he hadn't even realized he was swaying.

"Sounds good," Lucy agreed. "Maybe sleep in tomorrow too?" she directed the question at her superior.

"Fine. I have a meeting in New York tomorrow, take the day off for all I care."

Lucy was grinning as she helped Clay to his bedroom and carefully lay him down on the mattress. Clay was too tired to share her enthusiasm.

"This is so lucky," he barely heard her. "It's a special day tomorrow. I don't even know if you remember, if you even know the date. But that's fine."

Clay turned over, curious. His mother… No, Darim's mother was gazing at him.

"Your father won't be able to make it, but that's fine." Maria kissed his forehead. "We'll celebrate without him."

Clay blinked and Lucy was standing in the doorway, lit from behind by the harsh laboratory lights.

"Goodnight 16. Happy birthday."

_I'm never out of bed before noon  
Waking up too late seems too soon_

It was two in the afternoon. He had slept almost 18 hours. Well, he says 'slept' most of the night was spent tossing and turning in general pain and fear. Nothing new.

Lucy seemed determined to cheer him our somehow though. She brought him a little store bought cake, which they ate sitting on his bed after he had ambushed her coming through the door. No candles though.

"Hey I got you a cake didn't I?" Lucy protested when Clay mentioned this. "Look, even I got you a present."

Clay eyed her warily as she ran from the room to get the 'present'. Knowing Vidic it could be another 20 hour day in the Animus. Or a coupon to any one Abstergo product. Or cyanide.

But no, Lucy came back with, of all things, a little black globe, turning out the lights on her way in. Clay jerked back. Was she bringing him a bomb or something?

Lucy flipped a switch on the globe's flat bottom and set it down on his bedside table. Instantly his ceiling and walls were bathed in stars.

Clay gaped at the sight he hadn't seen the stars in… Months… Days… Years… Something like that, and these were as beautiful as the real thing. He fell back onto the bed and Lucy feared he had passed out. But as she leaned over his face she saw his eyes were wide open, glistening with unshed tears and shining with the light from the artificial night sky.

Lucy smiled and lay down next to him, fingers just brushing his. Clay started listing out the constellations and names of each cluster of stars in a hoarse whisper. He fell asleep just as he got to Orion.

Lucy stayed with him for a few more moments, watching the even rise and fall of his chest, knowing that his dreams wouldn't be plagued with demons tonight.

She left, stealing one more glance at the sky before the doors slid closed behind her.

_And I could never be Neil Armstrong  
I'd be the last man on the moon  
_  
He dreamt of his father that night after cake and starry skies with Lucy. They were camping after hunting deer and rabbits all day. With no tent or cover to speak of Clay had a clear view of the night. Pausing while helping his father light a fire, he tilted his head up and spoke clearly.

"Dad… I want to be an astronaut when I grow up."

His father sighed deeply, standing up from kneeling look at his son. Clay couldn't see his face, he was still staring at the moon. But he knew it would be disappointed.

"Clay, you're fifteen years old, you're already grown up."

His face fell.

"You are an assassin, born and raised; you have strong blood running through your veins." His father's hand gripped his shoulder hard, painfully. "This is what you were made to be. Not the next Neil Armstrong. Trust me, you're the last person the government would pick to be their next spacemen." He spit the last word with bitterness and turned back to lighting the fire.

Clay didn't move until his father shoved him to the side to get his attention.

"Got get a rabbit for me to roast _spaceboy."_

_In a place I know I belong  
In my head I can do no wrong  
I could never be Neil Armstrong  
I'd be the last man on the moon_


End file.
